Young Kenner, having deposited his camp outfit in a heap on the ground, began lifting out tall, round bottles, four at a time and ricking them neatly beside the large sagebush indicated by the officer.
Standing upon the running board at Casey's shoulder where he had a clear view, the big man watched the unloading and at the same time kept an eye on Casey.

It was perfectly evident that for all his easy good nature, he was not a man who could be talked out of his purpose.
"All right, pile in your blankets," the big man ordered at last, and young Kenner unemotionally began to reload the camp outfit.

The big man's attention shifted to Casey again.

He looked at him curiously and grinned.
"Say, that's a good one you pulled! You had all the county officials bluffed into thinking you were the victim of that Black Butte bunch, instead of being in cahoots.

That alibi of yours was a bird.